Friday, May 24, 2019

Fog or rain, early Thursday morning.  The streets are wet, trees are wet but there are no puddles.  This thick cloud must be fog, not rain. After morning meditation there are puddles in the streets. Rain.

I have to stand on my tippy toes to see out my back window.  The neighbors have three bird feeders in their wild yard.  Birds are flitting around.  A tinge of envy arises, I want their feeders at my house. I want to have a better view of their bird life.  I could build a bigger window.  I could do nothing.

I picked up Peter Heller’s new book THE RIVER.  I loved his other book THE DOG STARS.  I wanted this book to be as good. I was disappointed.

At lunch with old friends we talked about the upcoming US Open golf tournament.  Tents are already up.  Hundreds of thousands of people attending.  We dread the traffic jams and the crowds of people invasion.